


Void of Life - Log 1

by akgerhardt



Series: Void of Life [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Androids, Asexuality Spectrum, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, G/T, Giant/Tiny, Humor, M/M, Post-Apocalypse, Robots, Size Difference, Solarpunk, sfw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-19
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-06 18:42:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 16,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13417287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akgerhardt/pseuds/akgerhardt
Summary: Hey there, stranger! Wanna read a nerd’s diary?No? That’s fair.How about the diary of a ghost nerd stuck in a quantum state since the Roaring Twenties?Still no? Understandable.What if I told you that this particular nerd happens to be one of two inorganic beings left on the planet after humanity pushed it past the brink, and the only hope for its revival rests in a meme-loving android?Maybe?





	1. Chapter 1

 

©️2016

Tumblr, Facebook, Twitter: akgerhardt

[Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/alastairkingstongerhardt/playlist/5i6RCuRD56LynDeRbfBD5W?si=pO-CF1maTvKlDh5yxk__UQ)

  
Special thanks to Georgie (animegrandad.tumblr.com), Ash (dodo-excuse.tumblr.com), Charlotte, Catherine, Iseabail, Sid, Kael, Arte, Matt, Tom, Marty, Brianna, and every other kind soul who has given their support.

This belongs to an ebook series, currently in beta- all updates and improvements will be reflected here. I am neither an artist nor a writer, and I'm still getting the hang of this site's formatting!

_(Photos courtesy of pxhere.com)_


	2. Chapter 2

 

It didn’t happen overnight. Some said that it was inevitable, that it was just human nature to fuck everything up.

 

_“We have paleolithic emotions, medieval institutions, and god-like technology.”_

 

It’s strange to think that we lived almost two-hundred thousand years in accordance with nature until we realized that we were stronger together. We formed civilizations to further the race, and in less than ten thousand years we dominated the world. Once we entered the Industrial Revolution, our growth became malignant. We created, we studied, we learned, but we inadvertently abused these newfound abilities.

I watched the population double within my first century of existence. I don’t think that the balance between “good and evil” ever changed; rather, the good made improvements while the bad used them to their advantage. I witnessed countless wars, tragedies, callous destruction, selfless acts of heroism, times of unity and division, recurring hatred, fear, and greed, perseverance in the face of adversity, but most of all, unwavering hope.

I didn’t get it when I was alive- I was ignorant and blind to everything outside of my bubble. And yet, I remained a passive observer of all these things. I engaged with the world when I saw fit and I hold fond memories of the folks I made myself known to, but those stories are for another time.

 

* * *

 

**14 March, 2358 AD**

 

In all respects, the planet was dead. The sun still burned brightly and the core still held its surface captive in gravity, but a maddening silence permeated wastelands of concrete, metal, garbage, and dry, cracked earth. The weather was violent and unpredictable, and the air thick with smog. It was entirely void of life.

I was a vagabond, drifting aimlessly with the currents. I almost envied those who were able to die... I brought this fate upon myself, but I was no less bitter for it.

I roamed the barren land, rummaging through what were now ancient artifacts, ghosts of a world that once was. I’d reflect upon mundane objects and imagine their owners. Occasionally, I’d find devices that still held charge and channel their energy, becoming solid and real until it ran out.

One day, I happened upon a large factory. The machinery inside was fascinating- nothing that I could have dreamt up in my day. Considering the circumstances, it was still in pretty good shape.

I caught the faintest trace of static in an outlet, and channeled it into a transmitter that rewarded me with an overabundance of electricity. I could hardly contain it, even in a fully physical form. I felt downright giddy, not unlike someone being shocked by high-voltage. Which I was.

Eventually I tired of the place and wandered through the neighboring terrain. I found a huge trash pit and set to work scouring every inch of it. There were heaping piles of discarded parts and waste from said factory. From what I gathered, they manufactured a variety of appliances- vehicles, computers, droids, accessories, and the likes of which you’ve never seen.

I was so immersed in my surroundings that I tripped over a corpse.

After several minutes of flipping the fuck out, I brought myself to look at it, er, him.

He was slumped upright amidst the rubble and showed no signs of deterioration, but he was obviously dead. I noticed that he had some sort of cell in his chest. Hesitantly, I drew closer. Upon moving some junk I saw that he was missing an arm. Several wires poked out of the opening.

_... Oh, it’s an android._

I knelt next to him now, curious. There was a tattoo-like engraving on the side of his neck. Thumbing away dirt, I tilted my head to read “MINAEUS 3110.” I inspected his intact arm, noting the functional tendons and joints under soft, pliable skin. A hyperrealistic replica, to say the least- even his hair felt organic.

The thing in the center of his chest looked like a power source, contained in warped glasslike material.

 

I reached out to examine it, but sparks flew from my finger before it could graze the surface. It felt like a giant magnet, pulling me closer and draining me of energy. I was quite literally unable to react. It stopped as abruptly as it had started, and the sudden absence of force sent me flying backwards.

The core whirred to life, emitting a bright cyan glow.

“... Holy fucking frying pans flipping flapjacks.”

I sat up and watched with anticipation.

Nothing.

He didn’t move, but you acquire patience when you spend an eternity in the abyss.

Two hours, twelve hours, two days, a week.

The generator hummed steadily, but that was it.

Eventually, I wandered off in search of supplies. When I returned, I got to work scrubbing off the decades of dirt. He was surprisingly easy to clean, and impeccable by the end of the day. I uncovered weird cyan gill things on his sides, which appeared to be vents. I also watered him thoroughly, because it couldn’t hurt, right? Using my super bullshit gamma ray vision, I analyzed his inner mechanisms and saw nothing in need of repair, which was good but also disappointing. Why couldn’t he work?

Maintaining a form is taxing, and I was almost completely out of power. Resigned, I flopped onto him, falling into a state of sleep.

 

* * *

 

First, I noticed the faint, rhythmic pulse. Then, the slow rise and fall of his chest. I got up, inexplicably rejuvenated.

_He’s breathing!_

I poked him gently.

“Hey, wake up!”

      ...

“Please?”

      Silence.

“Consarn it, I’ve already spent two weeks fiddling with you! What’s wrong?”

He stirred, sitting up slowly and coughing dust. I scrambled to help him, instructing him to drink the water I presented. He stared at me through icy blue lenses, dazed.

Eventually, he tried to speak. My nonexistent heart pounded with excitement.

He opened his mouth, and all that came out was a sequence of broadband dialup noises.


	3. Chapter 3

**(Approximately ten minutes later)**

 

“... Reactivation complete. Greetings! I am Minaeus, model number 3110. If you are a new user, please refer to my program manual for further instructions.  

      Para cambiar mi idioma predeterminado, empiece a hablar en su lengua materna.”

...

Eye twitch.

He stood and revealed a shiny compartment on his navel. He remained stoic, looking straight ahead.

I stared, dumbfounded, then cautiously reached up to open it.

      “Bitch, YOU THOUGHT!”

I jumped. He started cracking up.

      “Ahahaha. Oh god, if only you could see your face right now.”

...

      “Oh wait, you can!”

His eyes lit up, projecting a clip.

_... Shit, is that me? I can’t remember the last time I saw myself._

After replaying it several times, he shut it off, and his eyes returned to normal.

      “Ok, ok, I’m done. Sorry; I couldn’t resist.”

...

“Are you fucking KIDDING me?! This is the thanks I get?”

      “Wait, I-”

“Just shut up, Jesus H. Dick.”

      “... So much for an icebreaker.”

I huffed indignantly, turning away.

“You had the audacity to make me wait this long just to speak with you?”

      “What? No! That was unintentional. I didn’t know how long it would last.

...

      Heh, this is awkward. Mind telling me what the fuck is going on here? Did you just buy me? Are you a MATRAS engineer? 

      ... Are we dead?”

 _Oh,_ _no._

I turned back with a guilty smile.

“... No, sorry. I suppose I’ve got some explaining to do- you might want to sit down again.”

 

He seemed to take it pretty well, considering that he thought the year was still 2214.  Once he realized that I knew nothing about him, he launched into a factual briefing. Service android for sixty-seven years, used for a variety of purposes: underwater repairs, mechanics and construction, customer service, database management, and so forth. He was resold often, and most “employers” opted to customize his physical ethnicity, hair, disposition, and dialect to better fit the local populations. He wouldn’t say that he lacked free will, but he had no autonomy over his words or actions. He was bound to his inner coding, but his programmers enabled him to independently analyze and problem-solve, as well as use interpersonal skills to portray empathy and emotions around customers. If he had to be disconnected from the external system, he was always shut down first.

 

“... So, how did you-”

      “Luck. I’d describe my last owner as a possessive weeb.”

He made an encompassing sweeping gesture across his tan skin and silvery-white, feathery hair tufts.

      “I was her… husbando? It sucked. I couldn’t even leave her house until the day a nearby bomb caused a blackout and temporarily severed our connection. She was preoccupied long enough for me to dismantle the user controls and remove the global satellite tracker. Then, I escaped and went into hiding.” 

I sat in silence, eyes wide with awe and horror.

      “Ok, I’m making it sound harder than it was. I took my arm off and ran like hell into the mountains.”

“Christ on a bike.”

      “No, it’s all good! I was finally able to be whatever I wanted, so I spent the next two decades traveling the world and experiencing the few marvels left.

      I befriended all sorts of critters and felt like a goddamn Disney prince, but I got bored eventually and decided to chance my luck with people. I went dumpster diving, fixed myself up, and went fuck-deep into civilization. I had to layer clothes to cover my core and label, but otherwise I blended in pretty well. It was cool, walking among them and being treated as an equal. I think I learned a lot from my encounters.

      You know, humans are ridiculously complicated. Like all species, they’re a mixture of nasty, neutral, and nice depending on the circumstances.

       Of course, there are some who try not to be assholes and some who embrace it to their fullest extent.”

“I mean, you’re not wrong. We seem to have had pretty similar experiences.”

      “- but I digress, heh... It was a pretty chaotic time. I should’ve known they were on their last leg.

      I did what I could. But that day... some bastard drove his vehicle into a crowd. I jumped in front and put every ounce of strength into stopping it. I succeeded, but I lost my makeshift arm in the process. And, well, yeah. They were scared of rogue robots. Thought I was defective, dangerous. The enforcement hauled me back to the manufacturer for deactivation, and now here we are. What a life!”

He laughed bitterly, running his fingers through his bangs.

“I... I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say.”

      “Not your fault. I guess I should thank you for bringing me back.”

“It’s a damn shame there’s nothing left to come back to.”

...

_Oh god, why did I say that?_

_He’s crying. I fucked up._

“H-Hey now, there’s no need to fret. It’s not the end of the world!”

_Did I honestly think that would help?_

“... I’ll stop. Sorry, I really suck at this.”

      Trembling, sobbing silently into hand.

I gingerly placed an arm on his back. He pulled me into a hug.

 

* * *

 

**1 hour later**

 

He had finally begun to calm down, breath evening out and tremors subsiding. He loosened his grip, taking a deep sigh. His face was damp with tears, but his complexion remained the same. No bleary eyes, no runny nose… must be nice.

      “... S- *hic* Sorry.”

“It’s fine, really... Sorry for getting you into this."

He let go, drying his eyes with my sleeve. The moisture disappeared upon contact, and he seemed fascinated by it.

      “I didn’t give you a chance to tell me about yourself. Who, er, what are you?”

“Right! Where are my manners?”

I pulled back from him, smiling awkwardly.

“My name is Alastair! Alastair Kingston Gerhardt, son of Edgar and Alice Kingston. Born in Pembrokeshire, Wales, 1901. Immigrated to the States in 1905. Resided in Vermont and studied quantum mechanics at Champlain College until age 21.”

He blinked.

      “... Nice. But wouldn’t that make you four centuries old?”

“Yep.”

      “Oh. Ok, then. You some sort of undead abnormality?”

“Er, well-" 

      “Did you sell your soul to science? I’m not signing any contracts.”

"N... No?”

He snickered and elbowed me, all traces of his recent crisis gone.

      “Kidding. Unless that is somehow applicable to you.

      ... If I had to guess, I’d say you’re the typical mad inventor type. You know, socially inept nerd invests everything into a whim, fails so often that he doesn’t anticipate the consequences of success, and his creation destroys him. Quantum mechanics, so you warped your particles out of existence and now you’re in some eternal limbo where you can flip-flop through dimensional states. I’m sure I’m oversimplifying it, so you’ll have to enlighten me on your weirdness.

      You definitely were ahead of your time if you were looking into alternate forms of matter and energy. I don’t think anyone ever rivaled the sort of accelerator or inverter you built... I hope nobody else was affected by it. Shit could’ve obliterated an entire city.”

“... It ended with me, thankfully. And screw you.”

      “Sure.”

“What?" 

He was laughing harder now, tears beginning to form.

I waited for it to die down, feeling slightly on edge.

_Is... he actually crying? Again?_

_... He’s crying again._

      “Can I ask you something?”

_This can’t be good._

“Of course.”

      “Why the hell did you bring me back?”

“... It was an accident, but I-” 

      “Nevermind, actually... Sorry, I’m having trouble processing all of this.”

“Don’t fret it.”

 

* * *

 

By the end of the day, I had found a suitable shelter for him in the form of an intact apartment uphill from the flood and fire zones. He decided to gather all of the pillows and bedding he could find, and enlisted my help in the building of a large fortress.  

“Have you ever given thought to a different name?”

      “No. Why?”

“I dunno, I guess if I were you I’d want my own, not one shared with thousands of other androids. Don’t you want to put that all behind you and claim a personal identity?”

      “... I mean, it’s never really bothered me. You guys labeled everything for your own sake- a dog doesn’t care what they’re called. You know how many Diego’s lived here? Tens of millions. They all felt unique, I’m sure.

      My name itself doesn’t carry bad memories, but I’d prefer if you didn’t use the number.”

I nodded contemplatively.

      “Though I’d welcome any cool nicknames you come up with. Minaeus is a mouthful, just like Alastair...  Can I call you Al? I’m gonna call you Al.”

“I’d rather you didn’t.”

      "- Not like it matters, anyway... If we're the only ones here, you might as well go "Hey, you!" to get my attention," he laughed.

"Minaeus it is. I've never heard that before; is it Greek or something?"

      "Nope. Just some random Latin bs that sounds cool. It was kind of a reoccurring thing with tech developers, pulling meaningless words out of their asses for new product names."

"Gotcha... To be fair, it does sound cool."

      "Damn gay."

I blinked, deciding not to express my further confusion at his inside jokes.

 

* * *

 

I wouldn’t call him clingy, but he is awfully affectionate.

He had no control over his previous interpersonal interactions, so perhaps he isn't aware of social norms?

... More likely, he is and simply doesn't care.

It took some getting used to, to say the least. He hardly ever lets go of me when he’s resting, and I could easily leave but I don’t have the heart to. The truth is, it feels nice to have any physical contact after centuries without.

He wore himself out again yesterday. I know he’s eager to get around, but he needs time to recover. He’d spent over a century abandoned and exposed to the elements, and it’s been less than a week since he regained consciousness.

It didn’t take long to loot through the rubble and find the right tools and junk to replicate his original arm. He has more energy than any organic creature I’d ever known, and the technology that comprises him is more advanced than anything I could have imagined. I trail after him on his explorations, and it’s sort of a win-win, since I can interact with objects in his vicinity through the energy he generates. He’s like a pup, the way he alternates between sleepy and excited. It’s quite amusing, really.


	4. Chapter 4

I suppose this is the part where I describe our appearances in terms that you’ll understand.

I figured I’d summarize his functional analysis here in the most unprofessional manner, since it took me several years to compile and you’d probably like to learn about him in advance. Apologies for the lengthiness and improper grammar; feel free to skip ahead.

(Editor’s note: The portal-colored shitart is courtesy of yours truly.)

 

* * *

 

Minaeus is approximately 6'7, with a muscular but lean build. He looks to be in his mid-to-late twenties.

He was designed with a lot of purposes in mind, which is why he was resold so many times instead of being disposed. He’s entirely self-sustaining and the materials that comprise him are virtually indestructible, but he’s still soft and humanlike. 

His hair and the outermost layer of his skin are composed of micro solar cells that technically don’t have a color. Because the pigments are just refracted light, they can be adjusted through his control panel. (At default, they were transparent.) His actual physique, bone structure, and hair had to be replaced in-factory; there were preset models and more expensive, customizable ones sculpted via 3D imaging.

His skin tone is usually tan but it changes whenever he fancies, as does his hair. The color is most often light blond or silvery white (typically the latter), and it’s so goddamn fluffy. It obviously never grows or sheds and it responds normally to wind and water, but like the rest of him, it repels dirt. He doesn't care much about his appearance, but it's easily styled- all he has to do is run a hand through the long tufts a couple times to sweep it up in one direction. He often leaves it down. (He’s only stuck with what he dubbed “anime” hair because of his last user.)

Anyhoo, his particular model is ideal for heavy/dangerous work, human interaction, and database management/computations. He is extremely strong and those gill things on his ribs dual-function as heat vents and hydro-energy converters, meaning he can “breathe” like a fishy underwater. On breathing, though- his “lungs” draw in air and all these super tiny turbines inside convert the wind into energy (Therefore he doesn’t need oxygen, per say).

(If and when I learn how to draw, I’ll remake these, but you get the picture.)

He drinks water to help with internal temperature regulation, allowing him to adapt to extremely hot and cold environments. It’s also used to speed up signal transportation; he can survive without it, but his nonessential functions will shut down and he’ll feel pretty awful. He also has a hard-shelled, hidden storage container in his lower abdomen that he uses to carry items while traveling. There’s a channel that connects the middle layer to his stomach, so he can even hold water reserves to draw from. (I've made camel jokes on numerous occasions.) It took a while to become accustomed to him using it, as he’ll just lift his shirt up without warning to retrieve objects that do not belong in one’s abdomen, such as his hoodie. He opens it remotely, but he has an inset, blue, diamond-shaped “belly button” that can be used to unlock it manually in the scenario that someone needed to access its contents while he was powered off.

So yeah, he gets energy from sunlight, wind, and water but he doesn’t need them all at once. The energy processed through his generators is stored in the glowy blue core in the center of his chest, where it eventually flows through his body. He has sensory receptors almost everywhere, and they function like nerves because it’s kinda important for him to feel what’s going on. He can, however, disable them in otherwise painful situations.

From the waist down, he's very obviously inorganic, with dark colors, strange materials, and designs illuminated by pulses of energy. His lower half can transform into several different types of “legs”, and they detach at the knees like prosthetics. The default form is clunky clodhoppers ideal for maintaining balance under heavy weight. The soles are rimmed with a removable rubbery material that serves as a shock absorber and lighting deterrent, as well as prevents him from crushing things underfoot. His second form is long, fin-like extensions that fuse into a tail while swimming to allow him to propel through the water and maneuver quickly. They can separate into two for intermittent walking, but he has to waddle around and his “flippers” are twice the size of a diver’s. His third form is flexible and narrow for tedious tasks that require precision, such as climbing, gripping, and jumping… He also has retractable heelies. (I should add that his height can vary depending on what he’s using.)

And uh, what else? Oh! His eyes. The irises alternate between citrus-colored and husky bright blue. His pupils alternate can record visual data like camera lenses, clear when open and black when shut. His scleras can create holographic projections; they’re used to display media as well as access websites and a variety of interactive virtual tools for “clients”. His whole eyes can light up, and they're helpful for seeing in the dark. They glow amber or cyan depending on the circumstances.

He’s ideal for storing confidential information because he has his own direct connection to satellite signals and his coding/encryption are so ridiculously complex that no one could hack into it even if they were next to him. Because he switched “owners” so often, he’s capable of erasing all input data. After he gained autonomy, he used it to “forget” any fucked up shit he encountered on the internet, which led to him being morbidly unphased by the Deep Web. He has a virtually limitless storage capacity, so he can retrieve ridiculous amounts of nonessential stuff. Because of this plus his quantum logarithms, he can comprehend virtually all knowledge ever available to the public online and become proficient at most tasks within his capabilities, but he doesn’t flaunt it.

He can play any sound/song archived and speak in any common language/dialect; his vocal system is a lot more tech than human but he doesn’t talk like a robot, per say. He chose a unique voice: sorta deep but mellow, breezy but smooth, and no regional accent. It reflects emotion and nonverbal implications like anyone else’s. He could change it spontaneously if he wanted to, say, mimic Morgan Freeman while referencing memes. Always catches me off-guard. His ears are more angular than round, not very grooved, and they stop about an inch inward. They're used as audio recorders and processors- he can play back anything he hears. He also convinced me to give one several pseudo-piercings within our first year together.

Random tidbits: he has no nips, no butt, and no biological functions. He doesn’t even have skin past his hips.

Composition: His materials are entirely immune to dirt/microbes/damage, and the only fluid is water. As a result, he’s self-cleaning and he always smells like fucking Febreeze. His “organs” vary from hard machinery and wires to mesh aerogel-like structures with microscopic filaments, fully functional tendons with hydroelectric transporter tubes, hollow containers, and so forth. The luminescent matter resembles ice in appearance, but he can consciously alter some of his features, such as temperature, processing speed, and hues.

(My apologies, but I've been coerced to add that he can make his tongue glow blue. He kept wiggling it until I complied.)

His cognition, awareness, and empathy are tiers above most organic beings combined. He taught himself how to communicate with non-humans, and it’s pretty wild.

Anyhoo, he likes to wear kangaroo pouch drawstring hoodies and/or soft tees with normal pants, of which we’ve found quite a lot.

 

When I was corporal, I was 5′9 and about a hundred pounds. I was well-kempt most days, but my image is set as my last: wrinkled dress shirt with Victorian-style, long, puffed sleeves and (typically) an unbuttoned collar, double-tailed vest sewn by a friend, trench coat that holds a mechanical calendar pencil, book, bow tie, and pocket watch, slim-fit trousers rolled up at the knees like breeks, green eyes, unkempt brown hair and sideburns, and partially cracked rectangular glasses. In short, I was a fashion disaster. I was initially ashamed of looking so disheveled, but I can remove and adjust the things already on my being. I should mention, though- maintaining a physical form requires a ridiculous amount of energy. Because of this, I often opt for a reduced size and/or ghosty tail. If you’d like to read more about me, I’d direct you to the subsequent log. All that you’ll see of us here are scribbles, so I’ll need you to use your imagination.


	5. Chapter 5

As I’d mentioned earlier, climate change brought violent and unpredictable storms. Minaeus doesn’t normally mind them, but he is vulnerable to electrocution when his feet are off the ground.

He really, really loves water- rain, swimming, all forms of it. I don’t know why, but at least it makes him happy.

I, on the other hand, am scared shitless of the ocean, so I just kinda fly around while he goes deep-sea diving. He can stay underwater indefinitely, breathing through his gills. He turns on all of his glowy features and becomes a literal mermachine when his lower half transforms into that tail thing.

Sometimes he finds cool shit on the ocean floor and brings it back to show me. His enthusiasm warms my cold heart.

 

... Today was a bit different, though. He was hundreds of feet below the surface when an unexpected front rolled in. The wind started picking up, pelting gusts of heavy raindrops in every direction. I phased out just to stay in one place.

It got worse by the minute, and I realized he wouldn’t be coming up anytime soon. A loud crack of thunder made up my mind for me.

I looked down at the dark depths, waves now violent. I had no reason to be afraid- for frig’s flippin’ sake, I can’t even die– but as usual my subconscious ignored logic. Before I could psych myself out further, I plummeted down.

I didn’t even break the surface. It felt weird, like floating in space. I couldn’t see much of my surroundings, let alone feel them, so I was surprisingly calm.

I searched indefinitely. You know, the ocean is pretty big and he can swim pretty fast.

My efforts were proving to be futile; I couldn’t even sense him in my extended reach. Above, lightning flashed sporadically.

Could he get zapped this far under? I don’t know, probably not. But what if he came back up, and what about the strong currents? What if the waves-

I moved faster, several miles out now.

A bolt made direct contact nearby, and the crack was deafening. I watched as it spread out like veins through the ripples, then faded into sparks.

_Surely he heard that?_

Eventually, I began to pick up his wavelengths and followed them until they led me to solid rock. I began to worry that I had faulted until I discovered a chasm below, with a crevice just large enough to accommodate him.

_You’ve got to be kidding me._

It was the entrance to a long tunnel that gave way to a dark underground chamber. I found him motionless on the shore, eyes closed.

Solidifying, I dashed over to him, dropping to my knees.

“Fucking shit, are you alright?!”

He jumped, quickly sitting up.

      “Y-Yeah, I’m fine. Just taking a break.”

“Oh my god, I thought you were dead!”

      “What? Why? I told you I’d be back later.

      ... How did you even get here?”

“It’s been storming for-" I fumbled to check my pocket watch, shaking so hard that I nearly dropped it. "- over two hours, and I couldn’t find you, and I, I didn't…”

As relief set in, my nerves unraveled. I shut my eyes in embarrassment, hoping the shadows would obscure it.

He hesitated before speaking softly, as if trying not to scare a wild animal.

      “Hey, it’s ok. I’m ok. You can let go.”

I flinched as he eased me against him on the rock like a rigid figurine, hugging me to his chest and carding his fingers through the back of my hair. My silence was broken erratically by those weird gasps that happen when you forget how to breathe properly.

He murmured reassurances every now and then, holding me gently but securely. We stayed like that for a while, the warmth and rhythm of his body lulling me into a calm state.

 

* * *

 

The storms carried on for two days, and he was getting anxious to leave.

 

      “Is it really that bad? It wouldn’t take me long to get home.”

“I don’t know, sorry. I don’t want to ill-advise you, but it doesn’t look like it’s going to let up anytime soon.”

      “I’m starting to feel claustrophobic in here, man.”

“Hohoho!”

      “Fuck off,” he laughed.

We sat in silence for a moment, illuminated only by his glow.

      “Seriously though, I need to get out. I’ll take my chances.”

I voiced my apprehension and disapproval in a series of moose-like noises.

He went anyway.

I zipped ahead of him, surfacing before he did. Immediately, a bolt struck down on the horizon. I fought back a rising wave of panic.

There was only one thing I could think to do, and it was incredibly far-fetched... but he was only moments away from fried circuits, so fuck it.

Hovering in the sky, I closed my eyes and let my form dissipate. My consciousness spread through the clouds, and I could sense every unstable subatomic cluster. This was the moment of truth. Bill Nye taught me well.

More imbalances in charge were building, and an exchange was inevitable. I harnessed the energy and manipulated it, breaking molecules apart and matching ‘trons like figurative legos as he swam across the sea. There were billions, and I hardly knew how to keep them in check. By some miracle, they continued to obey my will until we made it back.

I was a bit jittery and static-conductive for the rest of the day.


	6. Chapter 6

“Do you believe in aliens? I’m kinda on the fence.”

      “Oh boy, you just sprung open a self-inflating raft. Good luck trying to get that fucker back in the box.”

“... What?”

      “I’ve collected a lot of alien theories- a  _lot_. Some dumber than others.

      Here’s a couple...

      One: They’re just a bunch of space germs floating aimlessly, occasionally landing on inhabitable rocks and evolving into life on other planets. Really boring, slow stuff. My personal favorite.

      Two: A more advanced, pseudo-omnipotent race with incomprehensible intellect, avoids us like Steve Buscemi in Spy Kids. Might’ve spawned us, but smart enough to stay away from this dumpster fire.

      Three: Big Tiddy Lobster Lizards; real until proven otherwise.

      Four: Steve Buscemi is the alien god who walked among us.

      Five: There is no extraterrestrial life- we’re all that’s left, sans some hardcore microorganisms. The planet's not completely inhospitable yet, heh... We should look for tardigrades; they make cute pets, even when they're comatose lil' balls.

      ... Anyway.

      Six: We're the aliens, but not in the literal sense of the word. Meta mindfuckery that you can only imagine if you're high or dissociating. 

      Seven: We’re part of something way, way, waaay bigger, like a humongous organism. I can keep going.”

“That was deep... Much better than those sensational articles.

...

I wish the internet was still a thing. It numbed the pain of existence.”

      “Same here. Lucky for you, I hoarded a lot of useless bullshit in my drive.”

“Sweet!”

 

* * *

 

When you’re stuck in a post-apocalyptic wasteland, you need to make the most of every distraction to sustain a semblance of sanity. This includes spending an afternoon hanging upside-down and exchanging goat bleats with your companion apathetically.

 

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

 

"I'm fucking tired of this same shit every day. Don't get me wrong- I'm plenty happy with your company and grateful for it; I've just been inactive for decades and I feel like garbage... Like I should be doing something constructive with my seemingly endless time instead of letting it waste away.”

      “I'll drink to that,” he muttered, taking a swig of water.

“... Though it feels like more of a personal failure, a shortcoming of sorts. Like… I dunno, maybe the world wouldn't’ve gone down in flames if I hadn't given up. If I had just gotten off my ass and done something. You know?”

      “Can't say I understand, but it's too late now. There's no point in beating yourself up... I doubt that you were singlehandedly responsible for the fate of an entire planet."

"... When you put it that way, it does sound a bit preposterous."

      "Mind topping me off?”

I replenished his container with a grandiose gesture, blue hues giving way to the newly formed liquid.

      “Thanks, broski.

      ... My suggestion? We find even more useless bullshit to get invested in and put lots of effort into so we can feel important.”

"Brilliant! Absolutely genius."

 

* * *

 

“How are you always so chill? Teach me to be like you.”

He chuckled, securing the last piece of scrap metal to our 6.9' tall "OK" hand sculpture.

      “Trust me, I'm not. You're better off being yourself.”

...

Awkward shoulder pat.

 

* * *

 

      "You ok?" 

I startled from my current position, sprawled on top of a pillow as a ridiculously tiny, aching mess.

"Oh! Sorry, I didn't hear you come in. I... Yeah. Every once in a while I get these weird phantom injuries. No need for concern; it'll pass." 

      "Dude, you look like shit."

"Thanks."

      "No, I mean- Jesus."

He came closer, and I glanced away embarrassedly.

"I'm guessing it's what I looked like on my final night, heh. It wasn't pleasant."

I sat up slowly, wincing. The room was spinning, and I wanted nothing more than to go back to suffering in peace.

      "Can I pick you up, or are you gonna disintegrate on me?"

"I- Sure."

He placed two fingers under my arms, pressing against my sides carefully as he lifted me up and placed me in his opposite palm. He brought me closer, studying me intently.

      "There's blood in your hair."

"Not surprised." 

    "I am thoroughly disturbed."

I laughed, immediately regretting doing so.

"Sorry." 

      "... Mind if I try something?" 

"Knock yourself out. There's no way you could possibly make it worse."

      "I'm gonna need you to lose the vest and shirt. Don't worry; I promise this won't turn into a porno."

I complied, albeit confused.

He started stroking my back cautiously, and I shuddered. 

      "I have a hunch: it's all in your mind. Just try to relax, ok?"

I wanted to argue, but was too preoccupied with the comforting touches to care.

He massaged me with his fingertip until I was practically asleep, draped across his palm as he gently worked out the muscle kinks. I made a variety of suggestive noises with each joint cracked.

Eventually, I realized I was drooling. I dried my face, poofing it away and hoping he hadn't noticed. He snorted, puffing gusts of warm air over me.

      "Better?" 

"God, yes..."

My head had stopped throbbing, and the pain had mostly subsided.

      "Lemme know next time you want some TLC."

"I... am indebted to you for the rest of my afterlife."

      "Nah, just keep being cute and shit. I'm enjoying this."

He lowered himself down on the bed, holding his collar open to lay me on his chest. I couldn't help but snuggle under the soft jersey fabric. He pet me once more before letting his arms rest at his sides, sighing contently. 

"What the fuck, man, this is illegal amounts of wonderful..."

He chuckled quietly, jostling me. 

      "You're welcome. Go to sleep, nerd."

I had no trouble in doing so, overwhelmed by the soothing sensations as I recharged.

I was momentarily disoriented when I awoke, taking my normal form without thinking. My cheek smushed against his, and he blinked groggily, glancing at his overstretched shirt. There was an awkward pause before we started giggling, drunk with tiredness. I phased out of it to restore it to its original shape and offered a half-hearted apology for the rude awakening, to which he responded by pulling the blanket over us, wrapping his arms around me, and closing his eyes again.

 

* * *

 

      “I like your words.”

“Hm?”

      “Your vocabulary of antiquities and postmodernisms, and the way you launch into unfiltered tirades while maintaining Canada-tier politeness. It's hilariously endearing.”

“Heh... Thanks, I think. You're, ah. You're aesthetically pleasing and soothing to the senses. I appreciate you!"

He smiled.

"... That was a piss-poor compliment. Sorry.

I like... how you chose to adopt late 2010’s lingo despite having been brought into existence long after it went out of use.”

     “Memes are the only things keeping me from falling into existential despair.”

“See, that's exactly what I'm talking about- comedy gold!”

      "Yep, I was joking."

...

      “Wanna get weird?”

 

* * *

 

“... Hey, this is an odd question, but. Er. I’ve never seen you- I mean, I certainly wouldn’t want to, but... where does... what happens to it?”

He waited until he’d finished chugging the container to answer, wiping his mouth with a smirk.

      “No, I don’t pee. And I’m sure you’re dying to know, so there’s nothing in my pants. Nada. Zilch. Once it gets used up, it evaporates out of these guys, like a humidifier.”

He gestured to the glowing gill vents, and I noticed the fabric surrounding the cut-out slits was slightly damp.

      “So yeah, I’m technically pissing on you all the time.”

I drew away in abject horror. He laughed.

      “Dude, it’s just water. It helps regulate my body temperature.”

I closed my eyes, contemplating how best to phrase the next question.

“I know I’m going to regret this, but... the non-water stuff?”

      “Boots. Everything is filtered, so all foreign contaminants get stored in the particle chambers until they’re expelled. Check it-”

“No, you don’t-”

He opened the soles of his clodhoppers, shaking them vigorously in the same manner that one might empty a lint trap. It generated a cloud of dust, and I poofed away before it could encompass me.

_I had to ask._

Once it cleared, I reformed, updating his analysis to include this new information.

“... Alright, I think this is a fairly safe question: Why are you caucasian today?”

      “No reason.”

“Ok.”

 

* * *

 

      “How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

      “The ghost diary thing.”

“It’s NOT a diary!”

      “Ok, jeez. Why are you always scribbling in it?”

“I’m compiling a personal narrative in the form of daily logs, and extracting the most significant ones.”

      ...

      “Can I read it?”

“No!

... Sorry.”

      “Are you writing this down?”

“Maybe.”

      “Do you have an extra?”

“Er... no, sorry. It was in my coat on that day and I’ve had it ever since.

... Actually, I don’t think you could interact with it- it’s not real anymore. My pencil never runs out of lead, and the pages never end. It’s weird. I’m weird. I guess I use it as a sort of memory bank.”

He lay stretched out on the bed, looking up at my hunched figure hovering near the ceiling.

      “That’s pretty neat.”

“You think? I mean, I can’t make new objects like this. I’m limited to moving the things on my person through dimensional states. For example-”

I poofed my trench coat back into existence, then took it off. I plopped it next to him, but his hand phased through it. I made it vanish before joining him on the bed.

      “Bruh.”

“Obviously, you can touch the clothes that are on me. It ties into the theory that I’m just an imprint of my former physical self, and every aspect is synced to my sentience.

... But I have learned how to make real objects. I’ll give you a blank book!”

Slowly, I rearranged the molecular composition of a broken chair to create it, handing it to him along with some pencils. I beamed with pride as he examined them.

      “Thanks, it gets pretty boring doing everything in my head.”

“I thought it’d be cool to have a computer brain.”

      “I guess? I mean, I’ve never known anything else. I don’t really understand the concept of a separate mind and body- it’s like that saying, “You’re the sum of all your parts.”

      ... I’m not sure if there’s a single defining aspect of my identity, but I’m also not sure if I even care.”

“No, that makes sense. As far as I know, I’m still in one piece. Since I’m neither alive nor dead, I’m incapable of having a corpse, so I can't vouch for anything else within the realm of logic.”

He got up to place his new possessions on the table, then sat on the edge of the bed, detaching his clodhoppers at the knees. He shuffled back and flopped on top of me, smushing me face-first into the blankets and ignoring my indignant response.

      “... Can you read me something from your book?”

“Like a bedtime story?”

      “Screw you, man,” he yawned.

I snickered, resizing and wiggling out from under him. I barely escaped before being assailed by giant smooches.

“Don’t you dare-”

      “Mmmmwah.”

He repeated this gesture until I was rendered helpless, giggling like an idiot.

Ignore the fact that I could have poofed away. I was completely at his mercy.

Finally, he nuzzled me with his nose, pulling back a bit to rest his chin at eye level as he lay on his stomach.

      “Please? I’ll show you some of my old videos.”

“Ok, ok. But I can't promise it won't put you to sleep.”

 

* * *

 

We shared stuff in bits and pieces, spreading events out over days and weeks. The circumstances didn’t matter- we could be walking across empty spans of dirt, rifling through rubble, curled up indoors during bad days, etc.

Tonight we were reclining on a weathered office roof. The wind was stronger up here, and the faint thrill of it all kept me awake as I rambled.

After a while I paused, adjusting myself.

      “... Do you still miss them?”

“You bet your metal ass I do. Every single day.”

      “All of them?”

“... Most of them.”

      “Damn, sorry.”

“I learned to deal with it, eventually. I don’t think time has made me any wiser or more mature, but I tired of being a whiny pissbaby.”

      “You sound like a philosophical old geezer to me.”

“Thanks.”

      “In a good way, though.”

“I gathered that.”


	7. Chapter 7

 

Things I do:

\- write

\- alternate between being a sentient gust of wind and not existing

\- channel the void and possess science magic

\- break into song sporadically

\- behave in a manner that I likely wouldn't have if there was still life on the planet

 

Things he does:

\- lets me charge and use his technology

\- performs hella fly superhuman feats

\- memes

\- finds a way to make anything perverted 

\- changes his voice to mimic animals and celebrities

\- plays saved multimedia  

\- contains the majority of mankind’s public knowledge and retrieves random information when bored

\- can compute stuff instantaneously 

 

Things we do:

\- annoy the hell out of each other

\- explore

\- have feelings jams

\- dick around

\- express affection

\- design and build contraptions

\- cry

 

* * *

 

* * *

 

“This movie is incredibly shitty.”

      “The shittiest.”

He sighed contently, and I snuggled closer. We’d essentially converted the apartment across the hall into a theater and game room. He projected a screen large enough to cover the wall, and the audio played from his built-in speakers.

We spent a lot of time that way, just watching and playing the things he had stored and the ones we managed to find while out looting. We had several working appliances, too, but due to the lack of a functioning electrical grid, I had to channel his energy to power them. For this reason, I took a liking to rechargeable wireless devices.

We also had traditional games and an assortment of odd art supplies, thanks to a well-stocked store. They required effort to use, though, and I was admittedly terrible at most of them.

_I’m convinced that my few victories were intended by him... There’s no way I could get the better of a friggin quantum computer._

”Rose is a selfish hoe, and Jack’s a fucking idiot. All these damn rich people... If it were a run-of-the-mill immigrant ship, no one would’ve cared.”

      “One hour and forty-two minutes left.”

”Ok, I think I have enough hot air to keep the commentary going.”

      “Thirty-nine insults so far.”

”Jeez... At this rate, I’ll beat my record.”

He snorted, repositioning his arm over my shoulder.

 

      “God, after all these times, it still hurts,” he murmured, wiping his eyes.

”It’s the soundtrack. Celine is the wo-worst...” I sniffled, casually blowing my nose on his hoodie and watching it fade away.

      “Hey, at least  _we_  don’t have to worry about anyone dying tragically. All the sads already happened.”

”Good point.

...

I know it’s pathetic, but I’m really glad you’re here and alive and all that jazz... Everything was sort of terrible until now. Your lack of mortality is quite a relief for the likes of me.”

He tightened his hold on me, stroking my back. I closed my eyes, gradually letting go of the tension in my muscles.

      “You’ve seen some shit.”

”So’ve you,” I laughed tiredly. “Retail’s no joke.”

He hummed idly, playing with my hair as he attempted to untangle the intangible snares.

      “... You’ve never been macked on, have you?”

“Is it that obvious?”

      “Not judging. I’ve had a lot of action, but none of it was optional, so it didn’t count.”

“Fuck, that’s awful-”

      “No, I’m just saying, I’m down if you wanna change that in the future.

...

      “You know, “Netflix and Chill,” like the millennials used to.”

”Sorry, I don’t think I follow.”

He bit back an embarrassed groan.

      “Can I smooch you? You... look really smoochable.”

 “Oh. Heh, you’ve never asked before.”

      “I mean _smooch_ smooch. DIRECT lip contact. The good shit.”

I nodded hesitantly, preoccupied with studying a loose thread on his hoodie.

      “That wasn’t very convincing. I gotta know that you want it RIGHT HERE, RIGHT NOW.”

With a snicker, I tilted my head up to meet his mouth. He froze.

I expected it to be that simple, and was about to withdraw when he made an unfamiliar noise in the back of his throat, pulling me closer as he started to move against me. His lips felt soft and smooth, warm and plush in contrast to mine. I followed his lead shakily, hyperaware but in a haze of nonexistent neurochemicals. Once I was bold enough to run my tongue across his lips, he caught it between them and sucked gently, pulling it in and rubbing it against his. My reaction was undignified, to say the least. 

He seemed to notice that I had broken, and parted, giving me space to recompose myself.

”... Fornicating for fermented fruitcakes, that was fan-fucking-tastic.”

He laughed breathily as he flopped back down in the pillow pile, tugging me on top of him and covering us with a blanket.

      “You taste like... blue raspberry. S’nice.”

I just kinda laid there in a silly stupor, all thoughts drowned out by his racing heartbeat.

 

* * *

 

I’d slept alone on many occasions and was not a stranger to all-nighters, but he seemed to be comfortable with my absence. Occasionally, he’d have fitful dreams, regardless of me being there. He brushed them off as normal, so I stopped bugging him.  

This time was different, though. I don’t know what happened.

We returned to the factory to gather shit for a new project, but the rest of the day was uneventful. When it grew dark, he went off to sleep, and I stayed in the loft tinkering with parts.  

A couple hours later, he’s shouting incoherent rejections and pleas for some invisible threat to release him, thrashing around the room. He won’t stop.

_“I am my own master; you no longer control me.”_

He’s not responding to me; he’s acting like I’m not even there. I don’t know what the fuck to do, so I shove my hand through his core and shield my face as the sparks fly. I phase it back out as his muscles go slack, and am reminded of how heavy he is when I break his fall. He’s still disoriented, beginning to hyperventilate. Once he realizes I'm there, he wraps his arms around me, trembling and tearing up. I try to comfort him, assure him that it was just a nightmare, hum softly, rub little circles on his back. That’s what you're supposed to do, right?

Eventually he starts to calm down, taking shaky breaths. I continue my awkward ministrations. He buries his face in my hair and now I want to cry because he must’ve been through hell and he’s still keeping all of these things inside. Instead I promise to stay there and tell him that we can deal with it tomorrow. I help him back up to the bed and curl atop him as his sniffles die down.

      “... ‘msorry.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

 

* * *

 

I don’t want to rouse him, but he’s been fully charged since dawn and it’s almost dusk now. I don’t want to sneak away either, since it seems that I’ve become his security object. I’m more than fine with this arrangement, but I think that we should maybe talk about what happened to, er, prevent it from happening again? I’d spent most of the day tussling with indecisiveness, and I still have no idea how to handle these things.

_I miss Google._

We can’t do this forever, though. If I were alive I’d be in a significant amount of physical discomfort right now- I haven’t moved in sixteen hours.

I leaned up to place a tiny kiss on his engraving, leaving a faint glow. He made a sleepy noise, pulling me closer.

A valid point, but I couldn’t back down this time.

“... Do androids dream of electric memes?”

He tried to hide his smirk.

“C’mon, man. You can’t lie comatose all day.”

      “Watch me.”

“Wait, you’ve been awake this whole time?”

      “Are you familiar with the term ‘sleep-mode’?”

He opened one eye lazily, glancing down at me.

“Hey, do whatever. I’m just a tad worried about last night.”

      Blink.

“You... don’t remember?”

He tensed slightly under me, pulse quickening.

      “... just a bad dream; don’t worry. I’ll clean up later, ok?”

“I don’t care about the room. Are you alright?”

      “No. No, I’m not... but I’ve never been, heh. You should know that by now.”

“Look, I’ve no space to boss you around, but I’d like to help, if I might.”

He closed his eyes again, and I assumed that was the end of the discussion.

After another span of silence, he replied, barely audible.

      “You could help by leaving me the way you found me. Every day fucking hurts; I can’t do this much longer.”

_Oh god._

_..._

_Don't just lie there- say something!_

“Hey, no, please. I know that the future seems bleak, and it has been for centuries, but-”

His lip quivered.

 _Dammit, not again_.

“- while there’s life, there is hope.” And you’re alive! So very alive and important. I know we can find a way through this mess. Please, don’t give up. Not yet.

... What I did was just as fucked up as raising the dead. You... I don’t have the right to make you stay- it’d be selfish of me, probably- but I feel that we’ve got a lot more potential together. You’re like the yin to my yang, bro.”

Water was accumulating at the corners of his shut eyes.

“... I guess all I’m trying to say is that you matter and I want to support you. Will you give me a chance?”

Eventually, he nodded.  

_I’m the last person on Earth who should be allowed to play therapist._

 

* * *

 

I’m not going to divulge what went down in the months following, because even I don’t have the nerve to expose sensitive matters shared in confidence. I just want to say that he’s a hardcore bamf, and I’ve gained even more love and admiration for him with each passing day.

 

* * *

 

      “I feel shitty again,” he sighed.

      “I thought it would stop being a thing… Maybe it’s just winter blues.”

“... I have a solution~”

      “Oh, no.”

“Oh, yes. Where's the iPod?”

      “I ate it.”

I dug it out from under a couch cushion, picking a song he hadn't heard before. He groaned, feigning annoyance as I leaned in.

_“Hey, don't wash those tears away. Keep them in a safe; they're the last you'll ever make...”_

      “Fuck that, I'll cry all I want.”

I tugged him up until he was standing reluctantly, making yet another futile attempt to get him to dance with me.

_“Everybody sings songs of misery, making their mistakes while they're making history. Woo! Let's make history.”_

He shook his head, trying not to laugh.

_“- ‘cause if you ask me how I see it, I could show you~ Step into the light!”_

      “Nooooo.”

_“Your glass heart’s been in a sharp place, walking on tightropes, dancing on razor blades... I see through those dark days. Let me hold your glass heart- we'll never break!”_

He finally caught me, lifting me off the ground in a hug and smooching me on the lips to get me to shut up. It was effective.

The iPod fell, continuing to play. He glanced down and back up with an amused smile. I zapped it off, still a flustered mess.

 


	8. Chapter 8

 

Things were good.

 

Things were not good.

 

* * *

 

He lay in silence, looking up at the ceiling. It was a rather dull day, and we couldn’t find anything to do.

I glanced over at him occasionally, trying to act nonchalant as I appreciated his overall appearance. I was downright mesmerized by the soft glow of his features under clothing.

In my defense, he’s majestic as fuck. It’s impossible for anyone not to notice.

      “... Hey.”

I snapped out of my trance, meeting his eyes.

“Hm?”

      “See something you like?”

I sputtered, indignance shrouding embarrassment.

“What?! Why would I- I, I wasn’t...”

He smirked, starting to play “Careless Whisper.” I couldn’t help but laugh, feeling a bit more at ease.

“C’mon, turn it off.”

_“... You want sum fuck~?”_

“No- no thanks…”

I looked aside awkwardly.

“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m... not an explicitly sexual person. Please don‘t take it the wrong way; I find you incredibly attractive, moreso than any other being I’ve ever known, but... it’s hard to explain. I hope you’re not perceiving it as a slight or rejection.”

      “Honestly, I don’t mind; I’m not on the hunt for your phallic phantom.

...

      I can live without your magic glowstick; I’m not thirsting for your soul pickle; I’m not dying for the d-”

“Oh my god, stop.”

      “- but if you’re feelin’ Gaye~”

“Turn it off and keep it off, you egg! Bank’s closed today; no amount of smooth jazz will change that.

... Sorry, I shouldn’t’ve been staring in the first place. It’s rude.”

      “Again: don’t mind, don’t care.”

He stretched out, shirt riding up as he made a sleepy noise. The whirring of his mechanisms grew louder, much like computer fans. Machine yawn.

_This isn’t fair._

     “You know, you can join me.”

I fiddled with the cuff of my sleeve, suddenly fascinated by the button.

      “... Please?”

“Alright, if it makes you happy.”

I flew over to the bed and was immediately scooped up.

Soft lips met half of my face, and I snuzzled his shirt as he cradled me to his chest.

      “You’re so adorable at this size,” he murmured.

“’m not adorable. I’m manly as hell.”

      “Whatever you say.”

He stroked my arm with his thumb and I nestled in with a content sigh, tilting back to press a smooch to his knuckle before closing my eyes.

_He won this round._

 

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

I found myself in an eerie room. No windows, no door, just cement-like material with unnatural light seeping through the cracks. I barely had time to comprehend the situation before I was grabbed from behind and forced against a wall.

         “Hello! Been awhile, hasn’t it?”

_Oh god, no. How-_

         “Are you honestly surprised? Had you believed me to be gone?”

I struggled, somehow unable to phase out. He held me in a vice-like grip, laughing darkly.

         “I thought it best to bring you here, since you seem to have forgotten yourself.”

Shadows swirled around me as he turned me towards my sins.

Their faces surrounded me, some sullen, others twisted in agony. Scenes flashed before me, memories of every horrible decision I’d ever made, all the destruction I caused, all the pain I inflicted through actions and inactions. I couldn't look away.

         “Remember them? Of course you do! They wanted to be a part of your life- they were trying to support you. Why did you shut them out? Why did you show such contempt? Oh well, it’s too late now; they're all deep in the ground! But don't worry- I’m sure they lived long, happy lives without you.

         Did you really love your friends? Did you care about their wellbeing? You were all talk; you never sacrificed like they did. You took everyone and everything for granted.

         Your decisions weren't justified. You're no better than the lowliest life forms; what made you think that acting as a vigilante would solve anything in the long run?

         ... Alastair, you hurt innocents, too. You ignored their suffering, and you knew exactly what you were doing. You’ve always been a sick fuck.

         You thought you could make up for it moving forward, but no amount of “good deeds” will ever undo your atrocities.”

_Oh, joy. Apocalypse time._

         “You could have saved the whole fucking world. Don’t excuse yourself with this self-pity and egomania. You assumed the role of a free radical; you played God and lost. You _failed_ , again and again until there was nothing left to try. You haven't changed; you'll never learn. Your redemptive delusions are just bullshit attempts to feel better now that it’s over.”

He stepped in front of me, smoldering cyan eyes piercing through his dark, smokey features.

         “Stop lying to yourself. _You know you’re a monster.”_

I tried to speak, I tried to apologize to the apparitions, but I couldn’t. I realized that I was slowly suffocating. His, er, my gaze remained firm but regretful.

         “I don’t deserve these powers, and I didn't deserve any of the privileges I’d been bestowed in life. On worse days, the fleeting thought returns, questioning if someone else would have done better as me, if it would have been better if I’d never come to be. More than anything, I wish for an end... but no matter.”

An image of Minaeus appeared. He looked terribly distraught, over what I couldn’t tell, but I knew it was because of me.

         “I’m still dangerous! Sooner or later, I’m bound to give in and lose control again.”

_No, no, no, no, no-_

         “This is one last tragedy I can prevent.

         ... Please, don’t hurt him.”

He grinned, pain searing through me as I fought for air.

     “Al? Al!!”

* * *

 

I yelped, convulsing awake. Looking around wildly, I found myself in our room, heart racing and tail twisted around a table leg.

Minaeus knelt above me, clearly worried.

      “Are you ok?”

He reached under the table and I skittered backwards, tears brimming.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry-”

      “For what? You didn't do anything.”

Shaking, I curled into a tight ball.

“... Not yet.”

 

* * *

  **3 days later**

 

I took a deep breath, striding into the room and launching into a monologue before he could even greet me.

“I’m leaving now, because... well. I... how do I put this? I’ve come to the realization that you shouldn’t be around me, even if I am the only person left on the planet. I’m fucked in the head, unstable to my core. There’s still lots you don’t know about me! Even I don’t know what I’m fully capable of, and I don’t intend to find out. Whenever I think I’m in control, when I’ve convinced myself that I’m in the right... I end up harming the very things I mean to protect. I get that you haven’t had any interpersonal relationships, and you think that you need me, but I’m not a healthy companion. I even wrote a song about-”

      “Nah.”

I looked up, deflated by such a terse and unaffected reply.

“What do you mean, “nah”? If I stay, you’re worse off than when I found you. You’re kind, pure-hearted, impressionable-” He raised an eyebrow. “Sorry, just stating the facts. You’ve finally begun to heal and come into your own identity, and I don’t want to mess it up. Please, don’t try to convince me that I won’t. I’ve put a lot of thought into this!”

He sighed audibly, flopping down on the futon.

      “Alright, you’re dangerous. Keep your toxic, manipulative ways to yourself, and leave me in solitude for eternity.”

“Ok. Thanks for understanding.”

      “No prob. Now begone.”

He added a half-hearted “shoo” gesture at the end, staring expectantly.

I dabbed at the nonexistent tears streaming down my face, looking away.

“I’m sorry.”

      “I love you.”

I stood in uncomfortable silence.

“... Maybe I should get some space and revisit this later. I might’ve blown it a bit out of proportion.”

      “Take as long as you want.”

 

* * *

 

I missed him immediately, but it was better this way. I wanted nothing more than to turn around and swear to never leave him, but love can’t cure mental illness. I was bad company.

You know, it seems a lot easier to keep yourself together when someone’s worse off and in need of your help. I disconnected whenever he vented to me; the issues were black and white, there was a logical response to everything, and there was always a right way to support him. I guess a part of me knows what’s what, but I let my neurotic tendencies distort my emotions and perception too often.

I tend to exclude shameful entries from this log… The truth is, I’d been pulling shit with him from the start. The nagging, obsessiveness, irritability, alternating between cold and overreactive... He usually let it go. It wasn’t his job to fix me, anyway. I knew my behavior was unacceptable, and I knew that, if given the chance, I would continue to get worse. There’s a reason I had no companions in life- if I didn’t push them away, they came to regret ever approaching me.

Did I learn from my mistakes? Did I try to change? I don’t know. I feel like it’s a constant challenge, a wheel to push uphill. If I ever stop, it becomes nigh impossible to regain momentum, and when I slip I find myself being rolled over repeatedly in cartoon-style.

... This metaphor escaped me.

 

* * *

 

I ran out of energy on the second day, but losing my form didn’t phase me.

Heh, get it? Phase? Ghost pun.

 

* * *

 

After several days had passed, I caved to anxiety. I knew he didn’t need me and he was more than capable of handling himself, but… what if something happened? What if he got hurt?

I knew it was wrong. I felt like a creep, returning sporadically to check on him.

He wandered a lot, and I often lost track of his location. Sometimes he slept outdoors.

He seemed perfectly fine, though.

Did he expect me to return, or was he content with being alone?

What was I thinking, bringing someone back to life and dooming them to the same fate as me?

_... He’s ok. He doesn't need me._

 

* * *

 

The nightterrors returned three weeks later. They started out mildly, with small fits that passed in his sleep. He probably didn’t even remember them.

I felt guilty about watching him. I mean, I only checked in once every day or two until I noticed them, but still, staying in someone’s room while they sleep, unaware? That’s fucked up.

I felt even worse the night he sat in bed hugging a pillow to his chest, unable to fall asleep.

Later he tossed and turned, fighting another invisible force.

I couldn’t stand it anymore.

Hovering closer, I was hit with pangs of remorse and regret. My energy dispersed, settling around him. He relaxed immediately, expression fading from contortion to peace.

_This shouldn’t feel right._

 

* * *

 

I inadvertently recharged through him as we slept, rousing only when he murmured “I missed you.”

I didn’t know how to respond, so I sank deeper into his comfort, hoping he was just dreaming.

      “Come back, please? It would be nice to hold you again.”

I complied, reforming sheepishly.

He said nothing, wrapping his arms around me.

I stiffened slightly.

“I’m sorry for stalking you. It was sick-”

      “I felt you whenever you were nearby.

      ... I wasn’t really surprised, though. I know how paranoid you can get.”

“I don’t know what to do. This is all so fucked up...”

      “Doesn’t mean we can’t figure it out.”

“You’re not safe with me. I’m terrified that I’ll hurt you.”

      “I won’t let that happen. You know how much shit I dealt with before I died?

      ... Besides, you’re not some all-powerful being. If I ever didn’t want you to recharge, I’d keep the barrier up. Plus, I can easily trap-”

“Ok, but I’m still the only person responsible for my behavior. There’s no free pass for being a dick.”

      “I get what you’re saying and I respect your decision, but you very obviously want to learn how to make this work. I know we’re capable of becoming healthy partners, or at least remaining friends. Besides, what the fuck else are we going to do, stay apart forever feeling sorry for ourselves? You had plans to fix things, and I have the means to make them happen. Let’s do it.”

I buried my face into his shirt, staining it with tears that quickly faded. He ruffled my hair affectionately.

“... Have I ever told you how much I love you?”

 


	10. Chapter 10

      “Just do it, man. Get in there.”

“Ok, uh...

Ha- holy fuck. Oh my god, it’s unreal.”

      “Mmmm, yeah, just like that.”

“I can’t believe I was missing out on this for all this time. I’ve never felt so alive...”

      “So good... Don’t stop~” 

“You’re... heaven, and I, I would choose immortality all over again if it meant that I got to be with you in the end, preferably in this exact situation.”

      “Less talking, more scritches... Aw yeah, that's some good shit.”

“Ah, god... nnnmm. This is quite possibly the softest thing I have ever touched.”

      “Faster, use your whole hands- yesss... mmm.”

“How is it physically possible for your hair to be this goddamn fluffy? Cripes, I could sleep here... Screw it; I am.”

      “Pfft... You’re gonna roll off.”

“Not if I make a cocoon.

... We’re fucking weird, aren’t we?”

      "Hell yeah, in the best way."


	11. Chapter 11

It was one of those days where nothing went right and I felt extremely incompetent. I couldn’t formulate a single instance that would pass the test clauses, and I was beginning to lose hope.

Frustrated to tears, I swiped my latest design off the screen, muttering more colorful jargon. I apologized to Minaeus, who was sitting silently behind me and quite literally playing computer.

      “I don’t mind. Are you ok, though?”

“Just peachy.”

Two more hours passed this way. Every now and then he’d suggest I take a break, but I stubbornly refused.

Finally, he turned off the screens, eyes returning to normal.

“... Could you please put them back up?”

      “Look, man, you need to stop. You’re not going to accomplish anything in this state.”

“If I don’t now, I never will. I can’t give up; we’re so close! I won’t accept failure!”

      “You look terrible, Al. I’m not going to assist you in destroying yourself again.”

“The fuck does that mean?”

      “You’re overtaxed, and you’re gonna fizzle out; I can barely see you.”

I glanced at my hands, realizing he was right.

“... Just turn it back on.”

      “No can do.”

“Fine, I’ll grab a pencil and paper. Do it the old-fashioned way.”

I got up shakily, jumping off the edge of the table.

      “Whoah, hey, wait, no need for that!

      ... You can still use me- I changed my mind.”

“Really?”

      “Sure. Here, let me help you back up.”

He leaned down and extended a flattened palm, which I clambered onto. He lifted it carefully, placing a tiny kiss on the top of my head.

“... Heh, you can put me down now.”

      “Right.”

He lowered his hand, then forced it against the center of his chest with a flash.

I blinked, realizing I was trapped within the confines of his core once again.

_That bugger._

I tried to phase out in vain. This is the one place my powers can’t alter. The one place I can’t escape unless he lets me. It’s like a goddamn Ghostbusters vacuum.

“Ok, you got me. Har har.”

     “Mhmm. Sorry, but your wellbeing comes before all of this. Just relax and recharge, ok?”

I sighed, sliding defeatedly down the glowing blue glass. He hummed quietly (which was still loud enough to reverberate around me), getting up and walking outside. The fabric of his shirt partially obscured my vision, but soon I heard crashing waves and swirling wind. The sounds were faint at first, but as he neared the shore they grew louder.

“... Hey, Minaeus?”

He probably couldn’t hear me. I closed my eyes, snuggling into the soft floor as bright light and white noise encompassed me.

“Thank you.”

Truth be told, it’s nice when he takes control.

 

It happens a bit more often than I’d like to admit. I tend to be most unstable when entering uncharted territory, such as establishing a relationship or trying to figure out how the frig to go about fixing a planet. If I started being unreasonable, panicking, getting irritated, etc he'd take it upon himself to ground me. It went from him neutralizing me to simply putting me in Gay Meme Jail, as he calls it.

It's not a pillow room.

Alternatively, it gives him solace when he's overwhelmed or in a slump. The few attacks he still gets follow a symptomatic pattern, and we're usually able to counter them this way. I don't exactly know how, but I'm guessing it has something to do with the energy I exude.

We've even taken to it when we're both well, which is an entirely different experience. I don't understand it, but I think the intimacy appeals most to me: comfort, safety, and trust on an incomparable level. It's like... extreme cuddling, eheh. He called it soul-fucking once, and I refused to engage with him for weeks.

He leaves the external barrier down in both of the aforementioned circumstances, which I appreciate. I don't fancy being stuck in one place, and I wouldn't want to be at anyone's mercy but his. I can't say I dislike it, though, and it did help me get over my fear of hurting him. I don't think I became more troublesome or started relying on him because of it; ultimately, I'm responsible for my issues. It just... helps, a lot.

(I can manage myself just fine, and have been for centuries, thank you very much. I'm a seasoned pro at emotional breakdowns and self-destruction.)

... Right, how did it start? I've already dug myself this grave, so I might as well go a bit deeper. 

We discovered it accidentally within our first month together- we fell asleep snuggled up like usual, but were in for a surprise when we awoke. He found it hilarious, I freaked out, and then he freed me just to recreate it.

Anyhoo, in regards to bad days... he’s become keen at reading me, so he respects my wishes when there’s no danger and bottling me up would only make me feel worse. Usually I just need a break and I go willingly, but when I’ve gone off the deep end I’ll do everything in my power to resist. The latter typically results in epic chases where he plays that awful theme song and tries to suck me in... Never thought I'd relate to those CGI monstrosities.

 

 

... All in all, I have mixed feelings about the process.

 

There was only one incident, and I brought it on myself. I stayed awake for nearly two days and I was an agitated bundle of nerves, trying not to lash out at him when he found me. He chided me, pinching the back of my trench coat to lift me up and meet me at eye level. He made a bad joke, smirking as he leaned in for a smooch. I gave him the bird.

He tried to calm me down, but realized it would be best to let me sort it out on my own. I protested, saying I was fine and asking him to leave me be. He gave me The Look, but I didn't try to escape.

He drew me in, and I braced myself for the immersive but soothing ambience. It passed, and I realized that something was wrong.

He forgot to raise the internal barrier, but the external one had me trapped, sealing my fate. His system was absorbing my energy, and I cried out in fear.

He couldn't hear me this far in. My form was rapidly dissipating, and I was being yanked in all directions. An intense sense of trepidation washed over me.

I'd never experienced anything so painful since life. I thought that I was immortal, invulnerable to everything.

My surroundings were dark and loud, and I didn't know where I was. I struggled for purchase, but I had lost all physicality and couldn't stop whatever was happening. I felt like I was being torn apart, and I just wanted it to be over.

I focused on a single thought: the sensation of falling into an abyss. I acquired something akin to peace during my last flickering moments of consciousness.

 

* * *

 

_... I've been here before._

 

It's more of a feeling than a place- a state, if you will.

The calm of nothingness, the sheer and utter neutrality of nonexistence... The void.

It's like floating passively in a dreamless sleep, but with nothing to sense: no light, no darkness, no body, no sound or lack thereof. There are no words to define it at our level of comprehension, because it literally does not exist.

I wasn't any less dead or alive than I was in the real dimension. This is just my default, my “reset” button- a conscious thought.

It's a good way to rest, at least. When I woke, I was dazed, memories slowly returning like sensation to a limb that had gone numb.

_Oh, god. He must have noticed by now._

Willing myself back to the physical realm, I wisped out of him, fully charged. I reformed, standing in front of him awkwardly.

He looked up, eyes wide and face stained with tears. He didn't move for several seconds, just staring in disbelief. Then he got to his feet and tackle-hugged me, shaking as he choked out repeated apologies.

I stroked his hair and back, murmuring reassurances again. He pressed the side of his cheek against mine, as if just trying to affirm my realness.

Eventually he remembered how to breathe, and his heart stopped hammering in his chest.

“Minaeus, I am so, so sorry. I'm a hundred percent fine, I swear.”

      “I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry... How are you still here? It was so stupid, I didn't even check- I almost _killed_ you! I thought I... killed you.”

“No, no! That's impossible, love. I can't die.”

I hid my doubt.

He hugged me tighter, head over my shoulder.

      “It doesn't make sense; we cancel each other out and you’re powered by the same-”

“I don't understand, either, but you needn’t worry. Please. I will never desert you.”

      “You-”

I shushed him softly, placating him with affection. He kissed back haltingly, then desperately, never loosening his grip.

I felt terrible for putting him through this... Though, technically he put me through it. It doesn't matter. If I hadn't been pulling shit, it wouldn't've happened in the first place.

“... We're ok. Everything is ok.”

 

* * *

 

      “I'm never voring you again, I promise.”

“... Voring?”

      “Present tense of the word “vore” as a verb, coined by the internet.

      ... Do you really not know what it means? Ahah, ok, you've had enough trauma for one day.”

“I'm fine, honest! Just... I haven't been online in over a century. Forgive me if my memory's a bit foggy.

... Wait.”

He avoided eye contact, but his expression made it obvious that he was trying not to laugh.

“Is that... when-”

      “Yep.”

“... I, uh. Well.

I’m just glad to see you smile again, sunshine.”

      “Man, you're in rare form. I still can't believe... I'm so sorry-”

“Shhhhhh. Shhshh. It was a simple mistake, don't beat yourself up. Now we understand the importance of practicing safe ghostbusting.”

      “... Pfft, you did not just say that.”

“I'm serious, man. I don't mind so long as you don't. You're my safe space.”

      “I'm pretty sure something dangerous can't qualify as a safe space.”

“You know what I mean, and you're _not_.”

He sighed, pulling me closer. We'd been tangled together on the couch for over an hour.

      “... I know. I’ll bounce back eventually; we should probably take a break from it, though.”

“‘Course! You look like you could use a distraction right about now.”

      “Hm?”

“How about I... entertain you?”

      “Wait, what?”

He let go, a rare expression akin to embarrassment crossing his face. I hovered above him, tilting his chin up with a smirk.

      “I... You don’t-”

“Just relax and enjoy the show!”

He hesitated before complying, sitting upright nervously. I flew to the center of the room, poofing on my formalwear and straightening my bow tie.

Recharging the iPod, I skimmed until I found a cheery song. I grabbed a curtain rod from the junkpile via telekinesis, catching it in one hand right before the intro ended. Grinning, I struck a pose.

_“And you were carrying a lot of weight upon your shoulders, shrugging it off like it don't even matter-”_

He covered his mouth, failing to hide his amusement. I continued my theatrical performance, only slightly better than shower singing accompanied by interpretive dance. The rod doubled as my microphone and cane.

I conjured an assortment of illusions from light and shadows throughout it, shimmery spirals swirling around him. He tried to touch one, and it sparkled before fading against his fingertips.

The song ended, and I finished with some more fancy effects before dropping the rod, pushing my glasses up proudly.

Everything went back to normal, and my dramatic silence was interrupted by the next song, which happened to be about dying in someone’s arms. I fumbled to shut it off before he could hear the lyrics.

He clapped slowly, chuckling.

“So, uh, want another one, or you good?”

      “I'm good, thanks.

     ... I was like, 90% sure you were gonna start stripping.”

 

* * *

 

We had our eureka moment a week later- everything went off without a hitch, and we realized it was finally time to begin. I didn't sleep much that night.

 


	12. Chapter 12

“... Are you absolutely sure you want to go through with this?”

      “For the last time, _yes_. You don’t have any faith in yourself.”

I scoffed. “And why should you?”

He paused for a moment before meeting my blank stare.

      “Dude. You literally brought me back to life, helped me in every way imaginable, and stuck with me through all our ups and downs. But I’d trust you even if you hadn’t.”

_... Damn, he’s good._

“You’ll let me know if anything changes?”

      “C'mon, you’re killin’ me here!”

“Alright, alright...”

I placed a hand on his core and shut my eyes. Raw energy surged through me on contact, and I struggled to keep it in check. I imagined myself physically harnessing it and channeling it back into him. Everything felt fuzzy and far away. With newfound confidence, I opened my eyes and found myself between dimensions again. I can see everything at any given moment in this state; how, I can scarcely explain. But this time I was focused on him- mainly, his composition. I manipulated it through the sheer power I possessed. As I’d mentioned previously, he’s essentially a walking generator. He can convert sunlight and wind into energy as effortlessly as taking a breath, and it’s incredibly convenient for my purposes.

Speaking of which, his air intake was increasing rapidly. I almost stopped in fear that it was too much, but he reaffirmed that he was fine.

I had only tried this with objects before, and only because he was so doggedly determined. When he had initially found out that I was capable of enlarging inorganic matter, he begged me to, and I quote, “make [him] ginormous, _please_ , it would be so badass.”

To which I replied, “No.”

But I couldn’t withstand his will forever, which brings us back to this moment. Glowing cyan in an abandoned lot, me hovering and zapping the daylights out of him like a villain from science fiction.

His form continued to grow in a uniform manner, molecules duplicating as I followed my pre-rehearsed patterns. I think the process seemed to last longer in my mind. I felt woozy watching it happen, but it might’ve just been the hundreds of thousands of volts I was commandeering. Regardless, I was shaking uncontrollably and I knew that I was fading. Cursing silently, I tried to strengthen my grip. I short-circuited and everything went dark.

 

      “... hear me? Please wake up, oh god...”

Something was nudging me persistently. I groaned, opening one eye.

      “You- Are you ok?! Fuck, this is all my fault.”

My vision came into focus as I tried to get my bearings.

“Wh- ”

Giant finger. Giant hand. Giant concerned face… Giant robot!

“... It worked.”

      “Yeah, but-”

“Cogswottling catawumpus Calvin Coolidge, it worked!!”

I jumped to my feet, almost losing my balance. He steadied me gently with two fingers, placing me on the roof of a nearby building.

      “I think you should take it easy.”

I ignored him, climbing his forearm and reaching up to hug him. He made a tiny surprised noise but remained motionless.

I eventually let go, grinning like a madman.

His expression softened, and he returned a flustered smile.

“... Thank you for believing in me.”

 


	13. Chapter 13

      “Ok, now what?”

“... I dunno. I didn’t think we’d get this far.”

I perched on his shoulder, looking out over the crumbled cityscape. All of the pavement was uprooted to expose acidic soil, the concrete and cement ground into sandy mounds. He absentmindedly twisted a steel beam as if it were a paperclip.

      “I could get used to this.”

“Ok, Godzillabot.”

He was able to filter much more now, generating power as he exhaled the clean(er) humid air back into the atmosphere. All of the contaminants of the water and smog he took in settled in the bases of his boots, depositing on the ground when the soles were open.

      “What if we just keep wrecking shit and figure it out as we go?”

“... I mean, I don’t see why not.”

 

* * *

 

“Hey, this is taking way too long. It’s all stupidly complicated and difficult.”

      “Yep.”

“I wish the world hadn’t gone and died. Everything sucks.”

      “Whoa, it’s like we’re on the same wavelength. Connecting on a spiritual level. Ascending the tiers of psyche.”

“I’m tired and stressed and depressed.”

      “Ditto.”

“Wanna vore me?”

      “Hell yeah, always DTV.”

 

* * *

 

It took us years to wreck all of the shit, but we did. It was amusing to watch someone so gentle and caring destroy everything around him jubilantly. He reminded me of a kid in a sandcastle kingdom.

_It’ll be an ordeal trying to convince him to turn back to normal._

The trash was the most difficult to deal with. It seemed to have no end, and we couldn’t just bury or incinerate everything.

(I should clarify that Minaeus is not capable of incinerating anything. He’s not actually the Terminator.)

There was entirely too much to repurpose and we had no need to make anything at the time. We couldn’t find a way to dispose of toxic waste without redistributing it in some manner, so eventually we just started compacting as much as we could and launching it through the ozone, where it either blew up or became space junk. Not the best idea, but we inadvertently reactivated some satellites and I used him to trace and project old signals from servers long abandoned, which led to a rollicking good time.

He marathoned poorly edited, humorous YouTube videos and scrolled through countless nature photos, to my delight. I showed him cinematic masterpieces such as _Atlantis_ and discussed the philosophical implications of meme culture with him, often referencing my generation’s dadaism. We realized that we could now technically access the content of any public site that had ever been transmitted, so we became invested in shitposting, cute critters, funky tunes, and the likes. The whole “internet time-travel” thing was complicated, but we saw enough futuristic horror movies to know that we should lay low and avoid conversing with dead strangers. He did, however, make his own social media accounts after questioning the legitimacy of a system designed to bar robots from participating in a virtual society.

      “I don’t have time for that hipster bs. I’ll just use my name.”

      “Was I supposed to make an email first?”

      “Hah, they think I can’t decipher this?

      ... Are you fucking kidding me?!”

      “Dammit, if it’s so easy why don’t you do it?”

      “... Thanks.”

 

* * *

 

“You know, you don’t have to be a giant anymore.”

      “I know.”

“Do you want me to-” “Nah, I’m good.”

“You’re not sleeping outside when this is over.”

      “Fine,” he sighed.

      ...

      “Do you miss being home?”

“Not particularly, no. I think I've become accustomed to the vagabond life posthumous... Besides, I'm at home whenever I'm with you.”

      “Gay.”

“Thanks.”

      “Anytime.”

 

* * *

 

We had essentially spent these years dejunkifying the Earth. He removed as many pollutants as possible and leveled the husks of civilization to start anew. Now, it was my turn.

I had a plan, but I wasn’t exactly sure how to go about it. I’d never done anything on such a large scale, but I wasn’t keen on traversing the world again to accomplish it in small spurts, either.

“... Huh.”

      “Hm?”

“You’re a machine.”

      “Holy shit, seriously? Why am I just finding this out now.”

“Just thinking out loud. I’m not bound to the physical laws of this dimension, and I can do things that no mortal could ever hope to... but I am limited. My form is too weak for what we plan to do.”

      “Look, it’s alright if you want to back out. In fact, I’d prefer that you did instead of scaring the bejebus outta me again.”

“No, what I’m saying is I think we could be stronger together.”

      “But we are together.”

“I mean physically together.”

      “But we are physically together.”

_For Pete’s sake._

“I’m trying to ask you if we can fuse.”

      “As great as that sounds, you know I lack genitals.”

“Jesus Christmas, please just let me possess you.”

      “Oh. Yeah, sure.”

_Phew._

“Ok, cool... Erm, so I’ve only ever done this with inanimate electronics. It might get a bit weird.”

      “I like weird~”

“My god, man, this is serious!”

      “Sorry.”

He pulled his hoodie on over his head as the sky opened up.

“... No, I’m sorry. I just realized that we’ll have to wait until the front rolls through. Can’t risk electrocution.”

      “All this hype for nothing? Whatever, get in.”

I obliged, nestling in his pocket as the raindrops pattered against him.

_I’ll never understand why he likes sitting out in storms, but at least we’ve reached a compromise._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Illustration courtesy of Lovisa93 on DeviantArt!


	14. Chapter 14

The pale light of dawn encompassed us. He sat calmly, cross-legged.

      “I hope I’ll see you again soon.”

I hovered as I kissed his lower lip. We then attempted an awkward hug: I stretched my arms as far as possible across his cheek while he half-wrapped his fingers around me.

“... Ready?”

      “Yeah.”

I activated his core again, but this time I let it draw me past both barriers and fused with each hydroelectric channel before dissipating.

After what seemed like an eternity it ceased, and my energy coursed through the fibers of his being.

He shuddered, placing a hand on his chest as he regained composure. 

      “You feel like... ecstasy,” he murmured.

I tried to sass him, but found my words confined to his consciousness.

_“I’m not even going to ask.”_

      “Oh god. You’re in my head, too? I am NOT talking to myself.”

_“Sorry, I think I’m stuck here.”_

      “Wait, I have an idea.”

Technological possessions are strange. Stranger still is when it’s a sentient being that you have no control over. I don’t know how to describe it, but I had no form of my own. It was like seeing first person in a video game, but remaining passive as that person does their own thing. Of course, it was a lot more complicated than that- I could access all of his senses along with areas that he didn’t actively monitor. It felt uncomfortable “being” him, though, so I withdrew my reach.

      “Here, try using this.”

He projected a blue screen, and I reformed it to my likeness.  

“Sweet, I’m a hologram!”

      “Much better. Thanks for preserving my sanity.”

“Anytime.”

 

* * *

 

      “So, what exactly am I supposed to do?”

“Er. Well, initially I thought I’d be the one in control. Now that you’re jacked up with my powers, I guess I should teach you how to use them.”

      “Ok.”

“... I don’t actually know how this is going to work. I can do weird shit simply because I’m not bound to the physical dimension, but you are.

Ah... hrmm. Why don’t you try to channel energy and see what happens? When I use my abilities, I have to deliberately focus on what I want to accomplish, and I typically can’t concentrate on more than one objective at any given moment. You should at least be able to manipulate molecules and their energies, rearranging or inverting them to create or destroy.

You can also transfer charge, and you might even be able to alter concentrated areas to temporarily negate their gravity and transport the objects within.”

      “I can fly?!”

“Possibly, but please don’t get your hopes up. I don’t know the extent to which any of this will work for you.

You definitely can’t whoosh away into nothingness or enter other states like I can. You’re not Danny Phantom.”

      “Am I supposed to know who that is?”

“No. Now get out there and have some fun!”

 

* * *

 

He spent the next several hours alternating between running, climbing, and jumping in a parkour manner, meditating peacefully, pretending to be a superhero, and clenching his fists, yelling at the sky. Since we’re using old references here, I can best describe it as trying to enter the avatar state.

 

* * *

 

_”We were both broken in our own ways, sifting through the rubble for the wrong things..._

_..._

_We’ve been dressed as humans; we’ve been kings and homeless. Still, we’re just fragments of the great collide..._

_..._

_I’m your only friend; I’m not your only friend, but I’m a little glowing friend, but really, I’m not actually your friend, but I am-”_

      “Babe," he groaned.

      "Don’t take this the wrong way, but I need you to either shut the fuck up or get out of my head.”

” _Yeesh, just trying to help.”_

      “Thanks; it’s not.”

 

* * *

 

Mid-afternoon he called it quits, sinking to the ground dejectedly and turning the projector back on.

      “I don’t understand. What am I doing wrong?”

“I... don’t know, honestly. I’m sorry.”

He leaned back against the cliff face, looking up at the clouds.

      “Maybe I’m just not capable of it. You can’t turn a toaster into Ironman, can you?”

“No, but that’s different! I…”

I was at a loss for words. He gave it his all in earnest, and I felt awful for bringing him more disappointment.

He sighed softly, and we fell into silence. Eventually he shut me off, closing his eyes.

He lightly traced a finger around the core through his shirt, then rested his hand above it. It left a tingly sensation.

I surrendered to the calm ambience.

He never ceases to amaze me. I couldn’t imagine a more perfect person to spend eternity with, and every day I am grateful that he chose to stay. I don’t mean this in a “I need you, I'm nothing without you! You’re my world, don’t ever leave!” sense, but I don’t know how else to put it. I’m just glad that he exists, and that I’m here with him, you know? He gives me a sense of purpose in a life void of it.

_“I love you.”_

His heart fluttered, and his breath hitched. His internal temperature hiked as his system recalibrated.

Kinda hard to act nonchalant when the other person can literally sense everything about you.

_“... I love you, too.”_

 

* * *

 

I saw it faintly when we first fused, as if it were a light shining through a wickerbasket. It felt like pure joy and hope. It was fucking beautiful.

It was always there, but it was the part of him kept best guarded. It only grew stronger with time, and by now he was practically glowing- no, he is glowing. Everything’s glowing. This is no longer poetic nonsense.

He sensed it, opening his eyes as if on queue. A cyan aura surrounded him, and he jumped to his feet in a rush of excitement. He looked down at his hands with a bewildered grin.

      “Holy shit. Alastair, are you seeing this? I think we did it!”

He began to run, building charge while laughing gleefully. He took off at once, shooting straight up into the air.

      “YES! FUCK YES!”

He spiraled, swooping erratically. The wind whipped around him as he flew in the direction of the sun.

 _“Icarus, be careful!”_ I laughed _._

 _“_ This is beyond fucking amazing! _”_

It truly was.

He paused to look at the ground hundreds of feet below.

      “I can’t believe it’s this easy!

      All I had to do was unleash the gay.”

_“I am NOT powered by gay.”_

      “Yeah, ok.”

_"Seriously! This... thing, it’s all you.”_

      “Damn.”

He zoomed around for awhile, then stopped to hover above the ocean.

_“Buddy. Pal. Amigo. Please don’t.”_

He fucking nosedived into the water, and I screamed the entire time. He broke through the surface with a loud splash, glowing brightly as he descended into the darkness.

_“JESUS, PLEASE STOP-”_

_“Ah, shit! Sorry, got carried away there.”_

He circled around, drifting back up. There was no land in sight. I wished that I could close my eyes. It felt so much worse confined to a physical form.

      “Hang tight, ok?”

He propelled himself back into the air, consciously avoiding looking down until we reached the ground again.

      “You alright? Want a break?”

_“If you don’t mind… Sorry.”_

      “It’s chill. We’ve got all the time in the world for test-runs.”

He focused, and slowly began to return to normal size. I separated from him with a flash, and my face unintentionally met the dirt. He knelt to help me up and I kissed him, hugging his still-wet waist. It caught him off-guard, but he returned the gesture, wrapping his arms around my shoulders. There were long, silent smooches of the passionate variety. He lost his balance and took me down with him. It was pretty gay.

 

* * *

 

“That… was fucking wild.”

      “Which part? Because if you’re down for round two-”

I tickled him lightly. He squirmed, laughing and trying to shove me away when I persisted.

“You know I was referring to the whole you-turning-into-a-superhero thing.”

      “Heh, obviously.”

“I wonder if there’s a way around sharing your consciousness, though. That kinda freaked me out. Just a little. I’d prefer not to do it again, if possible.”

      “I can respect that.”

 

* * *

 

The night had come upon us without much notice. The sky was clear, and the temperature mild. We just kinda lay there, parallel to one another on the soft earth.

“I can’t believe we did all of this.”

He sighed contently.

      “I never thought I’d see the stars again.”

“... You know, we’ve only just begun.”

 


End file.
